


A Perfect Night

by DangersUntoldHardshipsUnnumbered, thebraveandthebroiled



Series: A History of the Senses: A 5 + 1 About Daphne Kluger [6]
Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 11:00:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19271923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangersUntoldHardshipsUnnumbered/pseuds/DangersUntoldHardshipsUnnumbered, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebraveandthebroiled/pseuds/thebraveandthebroiled
Summary: The plus one and the long-delayed ending to this lovely series that we have enjoyed so much: the sense of taste explored, and a few little surprises revealed.Also, spot the crossover cameo  ;)





	A Perfect Night

_“And now we've outstayed our welcome and it's closing time_

_I was holding her hand, her hand was holding mine_

_Our coats both smell of smoke, whisky and wine_

_As we fill up our lungs with the cold air of the night_

_I walked her home then she took me inside_

_To finish some Doritos and another bottle of wine_

_I swear I'm gonna put you in a song that I write_

_About a Galway girl and a perfect night”_

 

“Hmm,” Daphne mused.  “Almond?”

Rose laughed.  “And what else?”

She closed her lips around Rose’s hard nipple and sucked gently for a few moments, feeling her squirm and listening to her little irregular gasps and sighs.  “And vanilla?”

Rose smacked her bicep.  “Right!”

Daphne licked her lips and strung kisses across Rose’s chest, sometimes pausing to suck hard enough to leave a little red mark.  Rose liked a bit of pain. Not too much. Just a little. She slipped down a little bit in the bed and started kissing and licking her way along the soft skin across her ribcage.  She detected yet another flavored oil. A new one. She stopped, frowning. “You’re playing with me,” she scolded.

“Entirely the point,” Rose answered saucily.  “Haven’t you got tastebuds?”

Daphne spent a few long, drawn-out moments, licking and kissing the skin of Rose’s ribcage before deciding, “Nutmeg.”

Rose sighed.  “Good girl,” she whispered.  Daphne shivered at that. She liked hearing it from Rose’s mouth.  

“Tell me again,” she whispered, working down to her stomach.

“Good girl,” Rose said again, and tangled fingers in Daphne’s hair.  

Daphne moaned a little.  Rose knew how much that validation warmed her, all over.  Rose’s fingernails raked over her scalp and then tugged her hair a little, just enough, just right.

L.A. breathed quietly outside the window and they had no interest in its scramblings and ditherings. They were occupied. This little game of theirs was something Rose had started playing when they’d first become lovers, some four months ago now.  Daphne had been timid then, and shy about exploring Rose’s body, so Rose had made a playground of her skin, applying different flavors in different places, and invited Daphne to see how many she could find, and guess what they were. They still played these days, though Daphne was accustomed by now to where Rose liked to be kissed, and how.  Now they just played it because it amused them both so much.

Honey, almond, rosewater, clove, peppermint, and an ever-changing array of tastes that Rose had managed to find.  Taste, Daphne had come to believe, was the most visceral way of experiencing something, more even than touch. Knowing its flavor gave you a dimension of intimacy with it.  “Oranges,” she observed, licking her way up the inside of Rose’s thigh.

“Good girl,” Rose murmured again.

Daphne looked up, and they shared a warm, smiling moment.  They knew each other now, and had knitted themselves together.  This was the love she’d not realized she was missing till rather recently.  She kissed the soft little spot just where thigh met hip. “You know what my favorite flavor is?”

Rose, who’d shown herself to be expert at coyness, replied with faux innocence:  “Strawberry?”

Daphne shook her head, smiling.

“Apple?”

Daphne shook her head again.

They were grinning at each other.  Rose started to take a breath to give, undoubtedly, some other teasing answer, but was cut short by Daphne spreading her open and kissing the soft, sticky wetness of her sex.  No flavors here, no flavors but Rose, raw and open and ready for Daphne’s mouth. The wonderful taste of sex that was a little like red wine, a little like mango, a little like seawater, but altogether not quite like anything else.  This was her favorite flavor, because when she indulged her taste for it, it made Rose come, repeatedly and loudly. And when she was done, Rose, in her lovely Irish lilt, would draw her close and kiss her deeply and pronounce her such a very good girl.

And if Daphne wasn’t already soaking wet from everything that had come before, that would generally do it.

Daphne gazed her with soft eyes and after a quiet, she murmured:

 _"sweet and smooth and slippery_  
_across my lips, around my tongue_  
_my delicate, my decadent, my delightful_  
_my most delicious lover"_

Rose's eyes gleamed, knowing those words were entirely Daphne's and meant entirely for her. She nudged Daphne onto her back and kissed her with firm, gentle purpose.  

Daphne loved Rose’s kisses everywhere on her body, but best of all were nights like this, when they stayed face to face, kissing, and Rose’s skilled, quick fingers roamed every inch of her, as if measuring her for a dress that she was already thinking about how to take off of her.  The deftness of her touch brought Daphne tremors every time, and tonight was no exception. She drew one knee up to her chest, opening herself and inviting Rose to slip those talented fingers inside her and fuck her to their mutual contentment and exhaustion. Rose knew enough to recognize the invitation and Daphne moaned with delight when Rose gave her what she wanted.  Closeness, softness, warmth, sensuality, intimacy. Heat. She came twice with Rose’s fingers deep inside her, touching her delicately, knowingly, drawing the orgasm from her like she’d been doing it all her life. And Daphne loved letting herself come undone for her.

They were lying in each other’s arms for several minutes, enjoying each other’s kiss, each other’s feel and scent and the sound of each other’s breathing.  Finally, Daphne reluctantly broke the silence.

“So,” she sighed, “Rosey Rose, I know you’ve got to get back to Paris soon, but… we are going to go to the Thanksgiving thing in New York, aren’t we?”  

Rose sighed.  “I suppose. Who’s going?”

“You know,” Daphne sighed, “the gang.  Tammy and 9-Ball–”

“That’s still going, then?” Rose wondered.

Daphne chuckled.  “Yeah, nobody else can believe it either.  And Deb and Lou, Amita and Con, and us, and who knows who else.  Some assorted family members, probably.”

“Great-Aunt Minnie?” Rose inquired hopefully.  Daphne had learned at some point that as far as Rose was concerned, Great-Aunt Minnie was the second-biggest highlight of Deb and Lou’s wedding, just behind their first kiss.  

“I have no idea.  But I’ll relay your request to the powers that be.”  

 

****

 

Daphne stood near the Entertainment Channel’s broadcasting table on 34th Street in Manhattan, at 9 a.m. on Thanksgiving morning. Her interviewer this morning was Carl Cotton, who she’d not worked with in a while, for no particular reason. He greeted her warmly, and they chuckled a little at each other’s fuzzy earmuffs, which nearly matched.

Rose lingered inside the broadcaster’s tent a few feet to the left of where the camera crew was set up.  Daphne gave her a peck on the cheek. “No reason to stand outside and freeze with me, this should only be like ten, fifteen minutes.”

Rose winked and placed her hands inside her coat.

Her Cameron Caine co-star, Lena Luthor, came gliding over to them. Daphne grinned and hugged her. “God, it’s good to see you,” she said enthusiastically. Lena had been a truly kind person, and Daphne had been sorry when production wrapped largely for the camaraderie that had developed between them.

Lena glanced over at Rose. “You too! Are you going to introduce me?”

Daphne smiled and said, “Lena, this is Rose Weil, my girlfriend.”

Lena’s eyebrow twitched a little but she gave them both an absolutely dazzling grin. “It is so wonderful to meet you, Rose. I am such a fan of your work. Especially the stuff you’ve made for this nitwit.”

Daphne rolled her eyes. “Rose, this is Lena Luthor, my Cameron Caine costar, as you no doubt know.”

Daphne knew Rose enough to see the carefully masked skepticism. “A pleasure,” Rose said politely.

“So you’re doing the thing with Carl, too?”

Lena nodded.

Daphne kissed Rose again, and they made their way over to the fenced-in table with the scrim behind it.

Daphne relinquished her earmuffs and put on the headsets for the broadcast.  “Ready?” Carl asked them cheerfully.

“Oh yeah.”

After the Cameron Caine red carpet four months ago, Daphne had not given any interviews for a while. She wanted to be left alone to enjoy her romance and sit with the enormity of what she’d just done. So much to Frieda’s dismay, she had rejected many, many requests for pressers and for the few film junket related activities she did do, she had made asking about Rose an off limits topic.

This would be her first.

A cameraman gave them a countdown, and then Carl launched into a long, upbeat intro about the weather (it was cold), how many balloons there were (a lot), what songs they were going to hear from what broadway shows (good ones) and then he segued into introducing Daphne and Lena.

“So,” he began, energetically, “you’ve been off everyone’s radar since the Cameron Caine premiere, have you been enjoying the break?”

She grinned. “Oh, yes. I just needed some time to myself so badly, and that seemed like the right moment.”

“How do you like the parade so far?”

She gestured up with a cashmere glove. “Well, Carl, it’s great, but what’s up with these balloons?  It’s all guys! They’ve gotta mix it up a little and get some girls in there.”

Carl chuckled. “Well, maybe you should have a word with Macy’s about it.  Now, speaking of getting some girls in there, let’s talk for a second about the success of Cameron Caine, because you and your co-star were the subject of some rumors for a while, and in general, what a phenomenon that last film was for the LGBT community.”

Lena laughed. “Rumors will start any time two women give each other a significant glance on screen.”

Daphne smiled. “Well, it was still more toned down that what was in the books, but I had really pushed hard for them to be faithful to Cameron’s character, and she falls in love with women as well as men, so I was really glad that we got Lena’s character in there and were able to include a little bit of that relationship, even if it wasn’t everything I wanted. And you know, as a queer woman, the representation was important to me.”

Carl nodded, smiling at both of them. She could see him dancing internally over the fact that she was handing him her official coming-out scoop. “Well, now, that does bring me to another question, which is that after the premiere, you left a lot of jaws on the floor with your appearance with Rose Weil, who I see is here with you today, and–”

“Carl, I’m a lesbian,” Daphne jumped in. She still smiled, but something warm welled up behind her eyes and in her chest when she said it. She felt Lena pat her gloved hand reassuringly under the table.

Lena gave a little snort-laugh next to her.

“Well, how’d you know that was gonna be my next question?” he chuckled.

Daphne had always liked Carl Cotton because he was quick on his feet.  “Come on, Carl, it’s not my first rodeo and it sure isn’t yours, either.”  

Carl turned to Lena.  “So, what about you, Lena, did you know Daphne’s story?”

Lena chuckled. “Well, we never really talked about it but I did get to kiss her, you know. I was pretty sure she wasn’t straight.”

Carl raised an eyebrow playfully. “Uh oh! Are the rumors true?”

Daphne almost doubled over laughing. “God, no. Lena’s been in love with her stunt woman since _Fury’s Peak!_ ”

Lena punched her in the arm. “Shut up!” It was the most limp-wristed punch Daphne had ever seen out of Lena, probably because the obnoxiousness of her shared couple Instagram with Kara Danvers was well known.

“So what do you think?” Carl asked them. “Maybe next year a Cameron Caine balloon?”

“I’ll be glad to pose for one,” Daphne replied, “but only if she has a Sara Stone balloon to go along with her.”

Carl glanced at the cameraman, who was signaling for him to wrap.

“Ladies, we are going to toss things over to our friends at 54th Street now, to see the first of the large brass bands that have come in from out of state to march in the Thanksgiving Day parade, but I wanna thank you so much for being here, and congratulations again, especially you Daphne, on everything.”

As she walked back to Rose and the tent, her phone buzzed in her pocket. A text from 9:   _If you possess enough courage to speak out what you are, you will find you are not alone._

 

*******

 

An early snowfall had dusted the fashion district with white, and Rose and Daphne had scarves drawn up to their chins as they entered the old, wrought-iron manual elevator where you had to throw a big switch to make it go up and down.

Deb and Lou had a loft in Chelsea now, for when the couple felt like being in New York.  It was airy and bright, with shiny wood floors and Lou’s trademark tastes punctuating the place; a lot of brushed metal, funky art, animal prints. However, two things marked it as Deb’s: one, the heavy bronze mezuzah on the doorframe of the entrance, and the mosaic that was made from the broken glasses at their wedding.  That hung above the fireplace in the center of the large living space.

Amita and Constance were already there, along with Con’s mom and a few of Amita’s bickering siblings.  Con was in the role of DJ, arguing with her mother about the song choices. Cheerful eighties music filled the cavernous space, along with the smells of delicious food.

“So look who came out on national television with no heads up whatsoever!” Lou exclaimed, hugging Daphne.

Daphne blushed a little. “It just kinda happened.”

“You two look like you got laid recently,” Deb said, appraising their faces before hugging them each and taking their heavy wool coats.

Daphne blushed. Rose snorted. “You _smell_ like it,” she retorted.

Deb didn’t blink.  She just waved a hand.  “Eh, it’s in the air.”

“Is great aunt Minnie here?” Rose wanted to know.

Lou emerged from the kitchen area with a large plate of fresh bread and crudité.  “Great Aunt Minnie is on a veranda in the Riviera most likely getting massaged by a cabana boy, and will not be joining us, sadly.”

“Shame.”

“Timtam!” Deb called over to the kitchen. “Look who’s here!”

Tammy was hunched over a large, steaming pot, stirring it delicately with a wooden spoon. She didn’t look up.  Instead, she held up a hand and only responded “Shh.”

Daphne chuckled. “I know that look.  That’s the Risotto Posture.”

9 Ball was watching this process with skepticism.

Deb, ever the conductor, was already in the kitchen, preheating the oven and moving over to discuss what had to go in the oven next.  Daphne heard her talking to Con’s mom, something about egg rolls. She glanced at Lou. “Is there going to be room in the to keep egg rolls warm with the turkey in there?”

Lou chuckled. “Turkey. You’re funny, movie star. We’re having Tammy’s turkey risotto, that’s as close to turkey as we’re getting. Other than that, it’s egg rolls, bao, channa masala and pashwari naan courtesy of Amita, jerk pork with plantains courtesy of 9, and Peking duck.”

Daphne’s head spun.

Deb, somehow having materialized in front of them again, handed her and Rose drinks. “Here you go.”

“What’s–?”

“C’mon, I know what you like.”

And then she was gone again, managing traffic between the kitchen and the shiny bar area where several plates of appetizers had already been laid out in a magnificent spread.

This was already different –and better– than any Thanksgiving Daphne could remember.

 

*******

 

The doorbell rang some while later, as Daphne and Rose were dancing tipsily in the living area. Constance had put on “Galway Girl” and Rose was trying to teach Daphne how to do a reel, and it was …. Well, sort of working. Daphne liked physical things, but she’d already had a couple of whiskey sours and she wasn’t as coordinated as she might have liked. But it was alright. Sometimes imbalance was part of balance.

Lou answered it, and ushered a handsome older guy into the loft. He had sandy hair and a neatly trimmed beard, and Daphne recognized him from the wedding as one of the men who had been kindly squiring Aunt Minnie’s wheelchair about. They didn’t hug, but they gave each other deeply familiar smiles. “How you been, Lou?”

“Not bad, Russ. Where’s Danny?”

He shrugged. “You know. He likes to make an entrance.”

Daphne was curious about this.

She pulled Tammy aside as she was fiddling with a flower arrangement. “Hey Tam,” she asked quietly. “Danny is Deb’s brother, right?”

“Yeah.”

“He was at the wedding?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s the dead one?”

“Yeah. Are you going somewhere with this line of questioning?”

Daphne smiled. “No, I guess not.”

With the proceedings well-lubricated, Constance chose some low-volume loungecore to accompany the main meal. Daphne and Rose helped set the table and bring out the plates upon plates of incredible food.

Daphne sat next to Rusty, with Rose on her other side.

Lou uncorked some fragrant cabernet, poured everyone a glass, and raised it. “Cheers to everyone here, and everyone not here, including Great Aunt Minnie, and apparently, Danny Ocean. Cheers to found family, and crime families. Cheers to love, in places we expected it and places we didn’t. Bottoms up, fuckers.”

Everyone chuckled appreciatively at this, and drank.

As they began passing plates around, the door buzzer rang.

Deb snorted. “Well, that’ll be Danny.”

Lou smirked. “Unless Great Aunt Minnie decided to pull the biggest surprise ever.”

She went to the door and opened it. Danny Ocean stepped into the room, just as Daphne remembered him from the wedding; tall, handsome, deep dimples, strong chin, silver hair, clever eyes.

“Well, everyone,” Deb announced, “for those of you who don’t know, this is my brother Danny. Danny, this is everyone.”

Everyone collectively tipped a glass in his direction.  

Danny came and kissed his sister on the cheek, and then set down across from Daphne. “It’s nice to see you again,” he greeted her.

“Oh, you mean from the wedding?”

He chuckled.  “Well, yes, but that’s not the only time we’ve met.”

Daphne gave him a puzzled look. She was quite sure she’d have remembered meeting Deb’s dead brother on another occasion.

Deb sighed. “Oh, alright, we’re gonna do this now?”

He remained silent, smirking at her.

“Fine.”  She looked at Daphne and Rose.  “So, here’s the thing, right. We–”  She gestured around the table. “–all knew that something happened with you and Rose in London, right, but we didn’t really know what. And I was a little tired of both of you being alone, and I was talking to my asshole brother here, and well–”

“Push come to shove,” he supplied, “I tried to get her to make a little bet.”

“You said to me, and I quote, after the Met job, what’s left now, Deb, you gonna steal the stars?”

Danny cleared his throat.  “And you got this look… I know the look… and you said, nah, maybe just one.”

“I mean,” Deb went on, “we really don’t need any more money after the Met Gala job, and the only reason we did London was because I owed someone a favor. So, the brain….”  She tapped her temple. “...the brain didn’t have any more heists to plan, so it started looking for another puzzle to solve. So, it was kind of my idea to get Con and Amita to take you out that night and kind of… see what the story was, you know?”

Daphne looked at Rose and then back at Deb. “The story?”

Deb waved vaguely. “You know.  You and girls. Was it a thing, could it be a thing. Because I wanted you and Rose to get together and of course, my asshole brother–”

“Are you gonna keep calling me that?” Danny objected.

“Yes. My asshole brother bet me that I couldn’t get you two together. So I needed a little recon.”

Daphne, remembering the antics that went on that night with Amita and Con at the club, flushed a bit.

“Now for the record,” Tammy jumped in, “I thought this was an insane idea. But… in Deb we trust.”

Lou snorted. “Deb is not God.”

“Maybe not, but we have things in common,” Deb retorted. “God? Also a master thief. I refer you to the heist he pulled with his son’s body. Anyway.”  She turned her attention back to Daphne. “So, it was clear from their recon that you had more than a little gay dying to get out, so the first thing we had to do was make you understand that you had a support system. That was a team effort obviously, starting with the dumplings sent to you in Oklahoma. And if you recall, when you let fly on poor Chad Chillicothe that first time in Chicago?”

Daphne nodded.

“Remember the Toblerone that showed up in your pocket?”

Daphne nodded. “Yeah. You never did tell me how you did that.”

Danny raised a hand. “That would be me. Sort of a reverse pickpocketing.”

Daphne snorted. “You went to all that trouble to give me a Toblerone?”

Deb shrugged. “We’re family.”

Danny gave his sister a sidelong glance. “I was in Chicago anyway.”

Deb ignored him and went on.  “So, that was when we decided that you needed a little break from the go go go pace of your life, and that was when we concocted that fake heist in Jersey to let you have a little time off in the suburbs, so you could learn how to be a normal human being and connect with people.” She winked at Tammy. “Good job, by the way, Tim Tam. Possibly your best work ever.”

Tammy didn’t feign modesty. “I know.”

“We’ve all been pulling for you since forever. Even the fake wedding was designed to make you see what you could have if you could just be honest with yourself. I mean, we really did want to get married, but it was also important for you to be part of that and see what you were really missing out on.”

“I did drop the hint in Amy’s back story about the letters, betting you were method enough that you’d start writing to Rose,” Tammy added. “And you didn’t disappoint.”

“Now,” Deb added, “Lest you begin to feel that the entire thing was engineered, no no. We were only able to help you along because we were working with what was already there. We all saw that you had feelings for Rose and wanted to help you go from the little fuzzy caterpillar to the big beautiful gay butterfly that you are today.”

Daphne grinned. “That’s okay.” And it was. She’d never had anything like a normal family, but she had this family; one that sent dumplings on dry ice by express mail and bared their souls through poetry at 3 a.m. One that hand-carried love letters to Europe and dashed off to the suburbs to win pie contests and wife carries.One that dressed each other and loved each other. She didn’t want a normal family, she decided. Why would she? She had a heist family.

Daphne gestured at Tammy and 9-Ball. “I was kinda nudging those two together too.”

Deb nodded approvingly. “And so the student becomes the master.”

Daphne’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out. It was a text from Harold. Dressed as a turkey. _Congrats, you gay._

She chuckled.

Actually, she noticed that she had several other texts that she had simply not noticed because she was having  such a great time. They could wait, though.

“Anyway,” Deb said with a tone that felt like she was concluding the story, “the way it happened, you became a project for all of us, and it kind of happened that it pulled us together into a family when we probably would have all drifted apart again the way people do after a job like the one we did. But the magazine, which we invented as part of a cover for you, wound up becoming Amita’s real thing and it’s getting legs now. You were the muse that reignited Rose’s career. You helped Tammy figure out her own sense of balance with life and love. You gave me and Lou a reason to stay involved with all of you. You gave Con’s mom another place to focus her energy and took some of the pressure of their relationship, and gave Con the room to do the travel vlog. You became the family member that 9 could talk literature with and swap book quotes with. This wasn’t something that happened to you, it was something that fell into place _around_ you, _because_ of you.”  She looked at Daphne fondly for a long moment. “And it was a lot of work so I hope you fucking appreciate it.”

 

******

 

Toward the end of the night, as they were preparing to leave, Daphne scrolled through numerous congratulatory texts. There was also one from Susan, holding up a Thanksgiving Day 5k medal, with the text _Thank you for taking Tammy away from us so that I could win this damn thing_

She showed it to Tammy, who smirked. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a similar one. “Send her a picture?”

“You ran a 5k this morning too?” Deb exploded.

Tammy shrugged. “What, like it’s hard?”

“But 9 was sleeping here on the couch all morning. Shouldn’t she have been like, cheering you on or something?”

9 snorted. “After the third time I had to drag my ass out to someplace at 5 am, I made her a spotify. Take my love with you digitally, baby, I will be waiting for you when you get back.”

Daphne shook her head at Tammy. “You’re a beast.”

Tammy shrugged. “I actually have better times when 9 doesn’t come. Makes me hustle more to know she’s waiting for me.”

Deb tsked.

Tammy looked sidelong at her. “Deb, even you, who are allergic to exercise, would put a little hustle on if you had Lou waiting for you in bed, naked.”

“You’re all the worst,” Deb announced. “It’s late and I want to have sex with my wife, so you don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.”

They all hugged goodbye one more time, and then dispersed to their various home bases.

 

*******

 

The next day, on Twitter:

 

**_@princess_cameron_4life_ **

_So y’all saw @daphnekluger on macy’s day parade yesterday coming out like it was no big thing? I was bawling like a fuckin baby_

 

**_@princess_cameron_4life_ **

_I made my mom take me to see cameron caine because she used to be so homophobic and cameron is the coolest mf ever_

 

**_@princess_cameron_4life_ **

_Cameron was so cool she made my mom not mind the gay and her relationship with sara was so deep she was like ok i get it_

 

**_@princess_cameron_4life_ **

_Cameron made it ok for me to come out to my mom and now daphne comes out herself and tells us she’s one of us? I’m living_

 

**_@Kiki_Magazine_HBIC_ **

_Congrats and Happy Thanksgiving, Daphne. Kiki wants to put you on our cover whenever you’re ready_

 

**_@Lena_Danvers_ **

_Congrats @princess_cameron_4life and congrats @daphnekluger_

 

**_@TheOldOakTree_ **

_Congrats Daph, my sister from another mister. Glad you’re out, proud and in love. All the best._

 

**_@deb_ocean_ **

_Your family loves u, kid_

 

 **_@not_danny_ocean_ ** _  
_ _wait_ **_@daphnekluger_ ** _you’re gay?_

 

And then:

**_@daphnekluger_ **

_@princess_cameron_4life i’m glad i could help  :)_

 

 **_@conjob_international_ ** _  
_ _GAY_

 

**_@cons_mom_ **

_I KNEW IT_

 

**_@The_Famous_Tim_Tam_ **

_[yoda emoji]_

 

**_@the_girl_from_oz_ **

_not bad, movie star. It’s almost like you had a family to support you or something ;)_

 

**_@daphnekluger_ **

_We only get one life and it’s important to be who we are as authentically as we can_

 

**_@princess_cameron_4life_ **

_OMFG I NEVER THOUGHT SHE WOULD ACTUALLY RESPOND I AM CRYING THANK U SO MUCH @DAPHNEKLUGER_

 

**_@daphnekluger_ **

_I’m thankful for all the people like you (there’s so many of you in my mentions i can’t @ all of you) and that what i do matters to you_

 

**_@daphnekluger_ **

_I’m thankful that i have a family around me that supports me. I see you_ **_@the_girl_from_oz_ **

 

**_@daphnekluger_ **

_And i encourage every one of you, if you don’t have a family that supports you, to build one._

 

**_@galactigrrrrrrrrrl123_ **

_God bless and thanks mom_

 

**_@daphnekluger_ **

_@debocean i see what you mean about that, @galactigrrrrrrrrrl123 please do not call me mom_

 

**_@daphnekluger_ **

_[photo of Daphne and Rose in a hotel bed under a fluffy white blanket, drinking hot chocolate]_

 

**_@daphnekluger_ **

_And most of all, love.  Love, love, and love. If you find it and you’re not ready for it, grow.  But find your happiness and when you do, hold tight._

 

**_@daphnekluger_ **

_Also,_ **_@not_danny_ocean_ ** _, gfy_


End file.
